


You Know I Got You

by zipplekink



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3851803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipplekink/pseuds/zipplekink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You don’t think I look stupid?” Zayn murmurs, fingers spreading across Liam’s thigh to tug him closer. He keeps his hand there, resting against his inner knee, gently cupping it and smoothing a thumb across the rough material of his jeans.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Liam snorts, he can’t help it. His breath is catching in his lungs just looking at Zayn because he is so beautiful, and he can’t grasp the concept of how Zayn doesn’t get it.</i></p><p> </p><p>[Alternatively, the one where Zayn and Liam will do anything to protect and take care of the other, but admitting their feelings well -]</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know I Got You

**Author's Note:**

> My summer starts next week but I couldn't wait. I got the idea in my head and then I just had to write it out and share x

Liam knocks sharply on Zayn’s door before he presses his ear to the wood, right below the door decs with Zayn’s name on them and the obscene drawings signed ‘ _yours truly, LT_.’ He can make out the shuffle of Zayn’s heavy footsteps along the ground, under the soft sound of Kehlani’s _best friends or lovers, can’t seem to draw the line between each other –_

He is worried, and he has good reason. Zayn is a danger magnet, from the god awful motorized scooter he insists on riding around campus even though he doesn’t know how to operate it properly, and the skateboard that causes too many scrapes and bruises. And not to mention the fact that Zayn is a _bit_ of an instigator, which always gets him into trouble. (He doesn’t know how to keep his sarcasm to himself at all, and it has caused enough black eyes in their years of friendship that Liam has the right to worry about it.)

Plus, Zayn has never, ever in the eight years that they have been friends, blown him off without an explanation ahead of time. Or, not answered the phone when Liam has called him and Liam has called six times already because they were supposed to meet up two hours ago.

And he is bummed. They just got back from winter break yesterday, and he hadn’t been able to see Zayn for the past month because Liam was visiting his sister for the holidays and he misses him, okay?

“Go away, Liam.”

Liam startles. Zayn’s voice is loud enough that he is probably right on the other side of the door, eyeing Liam through the peephole. He doesn’t sound hurt at least, but tired.

He can’t control the pout on his lips, or the way his shoulders slump. He is in total control of the fact that he widens his eyes into that puppy look though, stepping back from the door enough that Zayn most definitely can see him.

“Not until I see that you are okay,” he insists. Zayn has dealt with Liam’s worries enough that he should have expected this. Liam always tells him how much of a danger magnet he is, and how much that _worries_ him - “Like, not broken or anything.”

“I’m not broken,” Zayn calls through the door, huffing out an irritated sigh that is loud enough for Liam to hear.

“Then let me see. Open this door and let me in. Or I’m going to think that you are mad at me since you’re not broken, and then I’m going to be upset Zayn, and worry about what I did that –“

Liam’s words die out when Zayn yanks the door open, an irritated look covering his features as he glares at Liam. He is in just a white shirt and gray joggers like he never even planned on leaving his room to meet up with him in the first place, but Liam doesn’t focus on that because his eyes are latched to Zayn’s head.

“See? Perfectly fine,” He grits out before slamming the door shut.

Liam gapes at him, or the door, actually. He is completely aware of that fact that it is rude and probably the reaction Zayn had been afraid of, but he can’t help it. Though in truth, Zayn shouldn’t have been worried about that because he knows Liam would love him no matter what. He is pretty sure Zayn is one hundred and eighty percent aware of that fact that Liam is kind of (super really actually) in love with him and he is just too polite to mention it.

So he should know that Liam doesn’t care what he does with his hair, and he isn’t stunned into silence because he looks ridiculous – he looks really, really fucking hot actually. Even more attractive than the last time he had seen Zayn, with his hair hanging loose on the side of his head, wavy and curly, perfect and Liam had thought there was no way Zayn could ever look better, even though he knows he has thought that more than a hundred times in the past, and has been proven wrong every single time.

Now his hair is shaved off, completely, only a dusting of hair covering his scalp. There is still enough there that he isn’t like bald skin-bald, but still pretty close to it. And he looks so beautiful still, even more so, that Liam wants to cry but that might be alarming, but would probably get Zayn to let him in.

“Now leave,” Zayn says through the door.

Liam stays rooted in his spot, gnawing at his bottom lip until he finds his voice again. “Did you blow me off because you got a haircut?” he finally asks.

Zayn mumbles something, words muffled by the door and Liam leans closer to hear, but he can’t.

“Zayn, just open the door. I’ve missed you.”

If the puppy eyes don’t work, the way he softens his voice will. Zayn always gives into Liam when Liam admits to needing him, because he doesn’t do it often. He always needs Zayn, but he can’t be _greedy_ , and enough people think he is fragile, he doesn’t need Zayn to.

(Zayn treats him like he is fragile, but he doesn’t mind that, because he always does that in a way that makes Liam feel protected -)

“Okay, but don’t laugh,” Zayn warns before slowly pulling open the door.

Liam keeps his eyes diverted, to control his breathing and expressions from betraying him. He shoves past Zayn, flopping down on his bed and making himself comfortable like everything is normal.

Because everything is normal, Zayn is just so overwhelmingly attractive and Liam has a difficult time dealing with it.

His room is a mess, things thrown about like his idea of unpacking is throwing a box in the air and letting the contents inside land where they land. There is a book opened flat on Zayn’s bed like he had been reading it when Liam knocked, so Liam picks it up and rests his back against the wall, scooching over to make room for Zayn once he finally joins him.

“We can just hang here then,” Liam says, fiddling with the book. He likes when Zayn reads to him, likes listening to the way Zayn’s tongue curls around his accent and his voice changes with characters and makes the story come alive.

Zayn’s teeth slide against his lower lip, eyes wide and nervous before he sits next to Liam so their shoulders and thighs are touching.

“You don’t think I look stupid?” Zayn murmurs, fingers spreading across Liam’s thigh to tug him closer. He keeps his hand there, resting against his inner knee, gently cupping it and smoothing a thumb across the rough material of his jeans.

Liam snorts, he can’t help it. His breath is catching in his lungs just looking at Zayn because he is so beautiful, and he can’t grasp the concept of how Zayn doesn’t get it.

Up close he sees the way the new haircut emphasizes his eyelashes, making them look even thicker and longer. He somehow looks so innocent and soft, but hard at the same time. Something Liam has always wondered how Zayn has always managed to perfect.

“Dude,” Liam says, reaching to drag a palm against the bristle of hair at the top of his scalp. “Looks tough.”

Zayn grins. “Yeah?”

Liam nods seriously. He thinks about how Zayn would look if he grows in his beard like he does sometimes, a thick scruff coating his jaw –

Oh god, no stop that thought –

“Alex swore he could do a fade, but he can’t. Or, he thought I said bald instead-“

“Why do you care?” Liam interrupts. “You never care what people think?”

That is why Liam has always stuck close to Zayn when they first met. Liam was envious of how uncaring Zayn had been about everything. When people picked on him, he shrugged it off enough that people just stopped. Liam has never been able to get them to stop, has never been able to just shrug it off the way Zayn does.

Zayn shrugs, pink staining across his cheeks. “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“Then why did you blow me off and then ask me not to laugh?” Liam pouts at him.

Zayn grabs the book from his hands, sliding an arm around Liam’s shoulder to tug him close until his head is resting against the other man’s shoulders. “You’re not anyone, Li.”

“Well, you know I wouldn’t make fun of you. Especially if I knew it made you upset,” Liam reminds him. He wouldn’t. Louis likes to tease him because Liam gets defensive when they pick on Zayn too much.

Actually, he is one hundred and eighty percent sure that everyone who has ever come into contact with him while he has been around Zayn is aware that he is kind of in love with him.

“I know babe,” Zayn sighs, opening the book on his lap. “And you’ll beat anyone up who does, right?”

Liam hides his grin in Zayn’s shoulder. “You know I got you.”

Zayn snorts, reaching with the arm around his shoulders to tickle under his chin. “Yeah, yeah, bad man.”

His cheeks warm and he stays silent until Zayn starts reading softly to him.

It is a good idea they chose to stay in instead of going out to eat like they had originally planned. Liam likes being with Zayn like this the most, when it is quiet and just the two of them, when Zayn keeps his fingers ghosting over his skin the whole time, the way Zayn’s features are always softer and he always laughs more like he is only comfortable with the crinkle in his nose and the vibration of his laugh when no one is watching him do it.

No one but Liam, at least.

++

Zayn sighs, watching his reflection in the mirror. It is really strange, having no hair. It has been years since he has cut it this short, and he can’t get used to it, and he is sure by the time he does it will be longer and thicker like he _is_ used to.

He isn’t sure why he is nervous about being around the other lads. They will take the piss, most likely given Louis and Niall, but he doesn’t care if they do. He is used to that, doesn’t mind that, usually thinks it’s funny -

And Liam well, he knows Liam would never make fun of him. And he will get mad when the other boys do, his cheeks flaming red and his face pushing together like an angry puppy and no one will really take him serious, but Zayn’s heart will expand in his chest because Liam won’t stick up for himself but he will for Zayn, who is more than capable of doing it on his own.

That is another thing he is still not used to, even though it has been like this right from the start – eight years ago when he moved to Wolver-Hampton and found the lad shoved into a corner, four assholes ten times the size of Liam trying to mess with him, the way he felt this surge of protectiveness and the way his heart tugged at his chest the moment Liam’s lips pushed into a smile, even though his bottom lip was cracked and it looked painful – that feeling in his chest when he looks at Liam, when he _thinks_ about Liam.

It has been that way for eight years, and Zayn still isn’t used to it.

He finally drags himself away from the mirror and out of the bathroom, fingering his cellphone because he is itching to call Liam, just because Liam always makes him feel better. Makes him feel confident, even if Liam doesn’t actually say anything. Zayn has just always admired Liam, how he always seems so sure and comfortable despite all the teasing he gets.

He doesn’t call Liam, because Liam is lying across his bed when he pads into his dorm room, an arm beneath his head as he holds one of Zayn’s books in front of him. He isn’t actually reading it, Zayn knows – Liam always makes Zayn read them to him.

Liam pushes up when Zayn comes in, and Zayn only smiles before heading over to his closet, sliding his towel off of his shoulder. He feels a little vulnerable without his shirt on and he doesn’t miss the way Liam’s eyes flick down his torso before he looks back up, cheeks warming.

“Your door was unlocked,” Liam tells him, even though he has done this more than a handful of times and Zayn has told him over and over that he doesn’t care. Liam is always welcomed.

(Especially in his bed, but he tends to keep that little addition quiet.)

“S’cool,” Zayn says, with a grin, maybe purposefully sliding his cotton shirt on teasing slow. He can be a tease because Liam is teasing him right now with the way the black material of his shirt stretches across his chest and around the bulge of his arms, the damn snapback turned backwards on his head and those freaking ruddy pink lips he was born pushed into a pout like he does sometimes for no other reason than to just mess with Zayn.

Probably not, but it still drives him a bit mad anyway.  

“I wanted to show you something before we meet up with the boys,” Liam tells him. He rubs his palms across his jeans, teeth nervously digging into his bottom lip. Zayn’s brows furrow, and he sits beside Liam instantly, searching his face for any other sign of what might be bothering him.

“What is it?”

Liam flushes deep, red coating his skin deliciously and Zayn can’t help but reach out and rub a finger against his cheek. It only makes Liam burn more.

“So, um. I figured,” He reaches behind his head, grabbing the brim of his snapback and pulling it off. He looks so nervous that Zayn is starting to feel that protective feeling rush through him. He moves closer, needing to comfort him -

Zayn’s breath catches in his throat, and the hand on Liam’s cheek moves to the top of his scalp, feeling the short hairs under his palm. It is shorter than Liam has ever cut it before, just as short as his own. “You shaved your head?”

Liam nods, lifting his shoulders shyly. “I wanted to make you feel better? About being around the other boys?”

This is what Zayn means. He can’t ever get used to the way his heart feels like it is going to break out of his chest, the way something like nerves twist in his stomach because he just wants to close the space between them and kiss Liam until his lips are sore and he is out breath –

“They won’t tease us any less,” he grins, letting his hands fall back in his lap even though he craves to keep touching Liam.

They constantly tease them, about how close they are. How they act practically married –

Best mates, Zayn always has to remind them through gritted teeth and he knows how transparent he is.

Liam shrugs. “At least we’ll go through it together now.”

“Yeah, babe. Thank you for doing that for me.”

Liam blushes, flashing him a shy smile. “Told you I got you.”

Zayn wishes he would stop being so _Liam_ , because he is a heartbeat away from closing the space between them and capture Liam’s full lips with his own. It is getting harder and harder not to, but he just sighs, rustling his hand at the top of Liam’s head.

“Come on, let’s get it over with.”

Zayn snatches Liam’s snapback from him, throwing it into the room before they take off. It is January, so the air is cold and crisp and he hates walking to the bar, but Liam keeps close, their shoulders brushing as they walk to meet up with the boys, so it isn’t so bad.

It looks quite busy already, even though it is barely nine, and they push through the crowd together until they find the booth Louis reserved for them earlier, knowing it would be crowded despite the weather.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Louis exclaims when Zayn and Liam slide into the booth across from him and Harry. He is squeezed between Niall and Liam, and he slides his hand around Liam’s knee to keep him grounded.

It isn’t like Louis’ teasing is intended to be harmful or anything. He is just a prick and thinks he is funny. Which he is usually, just not when his jokes are directed towards Liam.

“What?” Zayn asks, pretending to be confused.

Louis waves a hand around his own head. “Your hair. Or lack thereof.”

Zayn shrugs, waving over the waitress heading in their general direction. “I thought I’d do something different.”

“And drag Liam down with you?”

Louis holds a hand up when Liam parts his lips to say something that is probably meant to defend Zayn. “I know, I know. Probably didn’t take much convincing, you guys are gross. When are you just going to admit -“

“Is this like some kind of weird mating ritual?” Harry interrupts, an amused grin tugging at his lips, pointing a finger between Liam and Zayn.

Liam stiffens some, and from the corner of his eye, Zayn can see the way his fingers scratch absentmindedly at the scruff covering his chin, red creeping up his neck.

“Fuck off, Haz,” Zayn snaps. “You too, Lou.” He turns towards the waitress when she comes to their table, and orders a pitcher of Liam’s favorite beer, ignoring the amused grins from Louis and Harry because they know Zayn hates that beer.  

“Looks good,” Niall tells him with a grin. He points to the boys across from them. “You know he can shag anyone in this room he wants no matter what he does with his hair. Stop being so obvious about how much you hate that.”

Liam tenses again, and Zayn digs his thumb into his thigh further. It’s not true, Zayn thinks. He can’t shag anyone he wants.

“I’ll have you know –“ Louis starts off but Zayn tunes it out, turning to Liam instead.

“Are you planning on bringing anyone back to your room tonight?” He asks, pressing his lips close to Liam’s ear so no one else will hear. Liam normally doesn’t hook up, and the one or two times he has he had been shy and nervous about anyone knowing.

Liam shakes his head.

Something that feels smug, but also relieved flows through Zayn, even though he knows he has no right to feel that way. “Me neither. Maybe we can listen to that album I was telling you about when we get back?”

Liam turns to show him his grin. It is strikingly beautiful, the way it lights up his brown eyes and makes them look like they are practically glowing in the dim light of the bar. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Zayn bites around his own grin, nudging him in the shoulder. “Make up for me blowing you off.”

“We will probably leave here late,” Liam tells him. “You won’t mind if I stay the night?”

Zayn shakes his head. Before they came to uni, they used to share the same bed loads of times when they stayed at each other’s houses. They haven’t much since then, unless one of them is too drunk to make it back to their own dorm rooms across campus. “I won’t mind.”

He wants to tell Liam everything he wouldn’t mind doing with him, but he keeps his mouth shut, instead turning away from him to pour himself a drink because Liam is looking at him in a way that is too hard to handle close up.

 

“It does look good,” Louis tells him a few hours later when they have snuck outside for a smoke. Zayn is a bit tipsy, but not drunk and he isn’t going to drink anymore because he really is looking forward to Liam coming over after they leave.

“I look like a prick,” Zayn says, grinning around the butt of his cigarette.

“You are a prick,” Louis reminds him.

“Only to you,” Zayn retorts.

“Never to Liam.”

Zayn doesn’t deny it, only shrugs in response. It is the truth. Never to Liam, no matter what. He doesn’t even have to remind himself that, it is just in him not to make fun of Liam. He gets it too much from everyone else.

And he doesn’t _understand_ it –

“Why do you do that?” Louis asks, still grinning but he is serious. Louis is probably his best mate, besides Liam, and a really good friend, which is why Zayn has always put up with him. But he likes to try and get Zayn to talk, which he can’t stand.

Unlike Niall and Harry, who check up on him and take his “M’okay,” as enough, but he knows he _could_ talk to them if he wanted to. But Harry can be just as bad as Louis with the whole trying to get Zayn to admit his feelings for Liam thing, so the only one he can really count on not to bring it up is Niall.

“Do what?” Zayn glares at him as a warning to stop while he is ahead. He ignores it.

“Try to convince everyone and yourself that you’re not in love with Liam?”

Zayn holds the smoke in his lungs for a moment, using it as an excuse not to respond. “I’m not,” he insists, voice thick.

Louis rolls his eyes and points to something behind Zayn. “Well, if you’re not, then you’re not going to be bothered by the fact that that fit bird from our current research class is dancing with him right now?”

Zayn whips around to look through the window Louis had indicated, but he doesn’t even see Liam.

Louis snorts. “See. Would you like to try that again?”

“No.”

He sighs, propping a hand on his hip. “Come on, Zayn. The boy is ass over tits for you. I mean he shaved his head –“

“Lou,” Zayn groans, clenching his eyes shut.

“Well, I’m just saying.” Louis shrugs, a playful grin on his face because he knows Zayn isn’t going to give in.

“Well, I’m just saying that I’m not allowed to talk about it,” he says, smirking when Louis shoves him as he stomps out his cigarette and head back inside, dropping the conversation before his best mate can continue it. That is as much as he is going to get.

He had kind of been worried that he would actually find Liam with someone else, but he is just with Harry and Niall, leaning against the bar as Niall tries his way with the bartender. It’s like this every time they come here, and Niall has yet to accomplish anything with Melissa, other than her name. His determination is admirable, and also really amusing.

Zayn slides his fingers against the material sticking to Liam’s lower back when he gets to him. His touches have to be less noticeable when they are around the others unless he wants the teasing to get worse, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind them either way.

They are only for him, and for some reason, he is pretty sure Liam gets that.

Liam sinks into his side like it’s a habit, not looking away from where Harry and he are watching Niall fail at his attempts. There is a lazy smile on his lips, cheeks pushed up and _red_.

“I bet,” Liam says, only turning to him slightly. “He will have her number within the next three tries.”

Zayn gives him a look like he is crazy, because he is. Niall has been trying for two years now. “No way. Not even by the end of the semester.”

“You’re on,” Liam challenges, eyebrows quirking up.

“And when I win?” Zayn says. He doesn’t mean to make his voice drop as he whispers the words into Liam’s ear, but the way Liam’s shoulder curls towards his chin, the way his tongue rolls out to taste his lower lip when it parts from the top in surprise is worth it.

“Anything you want. But if I win, you have to finally read me the last Harry Potter. I have to know how it ends, Zayn,” Liam says adamantly.

Zayn lets his arm drop away from Liam. “You’re cruel, Liam. You saw the movie, you know what happens. No fair.”

It’s Liam who slides an arm around his lower back this time, tugging him close and Zayn’s frown doesn’t last long. “So if you win?”

“You have to read the book on your own.”

Liam laughs, eyes crinkling at the corner, mouth falling open as he does so. “Okay, fair enough. But don’t be grumpy when you lose.”

“M’not grumpy,” Zayn mumbles, frowning at him.

Liam tickles his fingers against his sides. “A little bit, but that’s okay.”

“Still your favorite?”  

“Always, Zee. D’you wanna go listen to that album now? I’m kind of bored.”

Zayn nods, nearly tugging him out of that bar without so much as a goodbye to their other friends. Neither one of them is that drunk, but he keeps an arm on Liam just in case as they walk back. (He could still fall, okay?)

It is a bit strange, after they have changed, Liam stealing some joggers of his that Zayn is pretty sure he actually knicked from Liam, and curled into Zayn’s too small of a bed together. The lights are off, and he can just hear Liam’s quiet breathing under the music, their legs tangled under the blanket but their torsos on either side of the bed, like they aren’t sure how close they are allowed to be.

_I’ve been thinking about the days when I’d come by, knocking on your door for your company –_

Liam doesn’t say anything when Zayn decides _fuck it_ and pulls him to his chest, hoping Liam doesn’t hear the fast thud of his heart. Liam just snuggles closer, hand curling between their chests. They fit well together, and it is no longer as strange, but good. Really fucking good -

“Who is this?”

_Why don’t you come here lil’ darling and rest your head, and tell me every little thing that’s on your mind –_

“Raury,” Zayn mumbles. Maybe he should change it, or something. He hadn’t planned this out properly. “Remember that one song you said you liked? Cigarette song?”

_I can be heartless and cold, and sometimes I’m distant –_

Liam hums his response, palm flattening against Zayn’s chest. There is no way he can’t feel the way his heart moves now. “This one sounds kind of sad.”

“Sounds sick, though. Right?”

Liam chuckles. “Yeah, dude. As long as you’re not sad.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Some songs just have one or two lyrics, yeah? That like, really stick out to me. Even if the rest of the song doesn’t represent how I feel?”

It goes quiet for a moment before Liam makes a noise of agreement. “Which part stands out to you? Like shows how you feel?”

Zayn just shrugs, thankful when the song flows into the next. Liam is asleep before the next song finishes, missing the one song he does know and Zayn shuts it off before he closes his eyes to chase Liam into sleep.

++

Liam thought university would be a lot better, really he did. He is around grown adults, paying serious money for their education, but apparently bullying is thing regardless of any of that. At least in college it is easier to ignore. There isn’t any shoving into lockers, or tripping as he walks down the hallway or the rugby captain shoving him into a nearly abandoned hallway because Liam had the audacity to try out for the team –

In uni, it is the looks, the whispered comments and the laughs with eyes directed his way like he isn’t going to realize they are talking about him. Liam grips the strap to his bag tightly, trying not to notice two of the girls across from him as he waits to be let inside his classroom. He doesn’t even know what could possibly be wrong with him today – he is just wearing a long white shirt and jeans, his new haircut hidden underneath a beanie.

It isn’t random people either, thankfully. People aren’t choosing to pick on him because he is smaller, because he isn’t anymore. It’s personal, though for a stupid reason –

He had asked one of the girls across from him to dance last year at some party, after Harry had forced him over her way because he had made a comment to them about how he thought she was pretty. (But only because Harry literally asked him who he thought was pretty in the room.)

Her boyfriend, Wells, who could probably give the rugby captain from secondary school a run for his money, confronted Liam about it. He was typical, just like those assholes Liam used to deal with, using his aggressiveness and size to try and scare Liam, and he did, really. But Zayn got between them, even more frightening and the guy backed off. But they have been whispering around Liam ever since, whenever they are in class together or run into each other while out.

So definitely not like when he was younger, but Liam had just wished it would _stop._

“Li!”

Relief floods through Liam when he hears that voice, dulling the buzz running through him like always when he sees Zayn’s smile. His face falls instantly though, and Liam forces his own lips quirk into a believable smile.

The girls stop talking when Zayn comes near, their cheeks going pink because everyone is affected by how beautiful Zayn is, but he doesn’t notice them, just comes straight up to Liam.

“You alright?” Zayn murmurs, reaching out to cup the back of Liam’s neck and search his face. His brows are furrowed, a hard look on his face that Liam remembers from when they first met, when Zayn had helped him up after the rugby boys roughed him up some.

Or in Year 11, after Danny had shoved him too harshly into the locker because he was upset that Zayn was spending all his time with Liam, like it was Liam’s fault Zayn rather hide away in his room with him and a book instead of getting high in Danny’s basement, trying not to get caught by their parents.

Or all those times Zayn used to sneak into his house after a particularly rough day and refuse to leave until Liam insisted he was okay, but then Liam refused to let him go anyway.

“Yeah. M’alright. Just tired,” he lies, giving Zayn another smile. He always checks up on him, and normally he doesn’t mind, it makes him feel good really, but he hates when Zayn asks him if he is alright and he has to lie, because Zayn always sees through him.

Zayn drops his hand, eyes narrowing at the girls across from them. “Got a problem?” He says forcefully. The girls’ eyes go wide, and one of them shakes her head quickly. “Good, then shove off.”

The girls go back to whispering angrily when Zayn turns his back to ignore them. His expression is much softer when he looks at Liam. “Wanna skip? Get away from them?”

Liam likes that Zayn doesn’t make fun of him for being affected, or tell him not to be, because he can’t help it. He shakes his head. “I can’t skip again, Zayn. But maybe we can hang out later?”

“Don’t blow me off,” Zayn teases, thumb swiping against his cheek before he walks off. The girls glare at him, but Liam only sighs before walking into the classroom.

He might as well have skipped, because he doesn’t pay attention. Instead, he focuses on the morning, on that feeling of waking up to Zayn to try and make himself feel better. The memory tugs at his heart, the way Zayn’s face looked so soft, and young with his new haircut. The way he had been clinging to Liam, and he isn’t sure if it is because Zayn hadn’t wanted to fall of the bed or –

Probably just because he didn’t want to fall of the bed but _what if_ makes him smile, even though those girls voices can be heard from behind him, attempting to ruin the peace that Liam is clinging onto.

“Excuse me,” one of the girls whispers, a finger tapping on Liam’s shoulder. He could probably ignore her, he thinks, until her voice gets louder the more times she says it and a few people around them to turn to glare at him until Liam looks over his shoulder.

“What?” he whispers, frowning at her.

“Your friend or um, whatever. What’s his name?”

Liam is about to turn around, to use to girls and guys coming up to him to tell him how fit Zayn is like he doesn’t know, but then when she continues with, “Is it Zayn?”

“No. Ronald. Can you please leave me alone?”

They turn towards each other, snickering. “Well, there is a _Zayn_ currently fighting on Main Lawn? It’s all over Yik Yak. Thought you would want to know since you two looked -“

Liam is turning around and raising a hand to be excused from class before she can finish, shoving his notebooks in his backpack and running out of there the moment his professor gives him the go ahead. See what Liam means? Zayn is a danger magnet. They just saw each other like twenty minutes ago and Zayn has already gotten himself into trouble.

There is a only a few people scattered around Main Lawn when he gets there, talking excitedly and a few campus police, but Liam doesn’t see Zayn so he heads towards his dorm, turning at this last minute to make a beeline towards Louis’, remembering that is where he tends to go after a fight because Louis is the only one who doesn’t give him a hard time for it.

“It’s Liam,” he hears grumbled behind the door, so he knocks again. And again, until Louis finally opens the door. Louis only gives him a sigh, holding the door to allow Liam through.

Zayn sits on the edge of Louis’ bed, a rag held to his lip. Purple starts to blossom along his cheek bone, an angry shade that makes his stomach twist. He only gives Liam a tired look before Liam is sitting beside him, removing the rag from Zayn’s lip and taking over the first aid kit laid out beside him.

“Do I want to know?” Liam says softly, gently dabbing Zayn’s lip. He is perfectly capable of doing it on his own, but Liam does it for him anyway and Zayn places his hands in his lap and lets him.

Zayn tries to smile, but winces. “That girl’s boyfriend, do you remember him? Really nice guy?”

Liam frowns at him. He hates when Zayn gets into fights, but even more so when Zayn is doing it in his defense. Liam doesn’t fight for a reason – he hates it, hates the violence and the hurt, anger and just everything about it in general makes him uneasy.   

“Hey,” Zayn says softly, fingers reaching out to press under Liam’s chin so he has to look at him. Louis leaves the room, sneaking out the door with a roll of his eyes and muttering something under his breath. “I know what you’re going to say, and don’t. He came up to me saying some really foul shit, babe.”

“No reason to fight, Zayn,” Liam says. He gently runs a thumb over the bruise starting to form under his eye, stretching up from his cheekbone. The words are so mechanic now, having had to say them so often –

Zayn grins. “Yeah, yeah.”

Liam shoves him slightly, careful not to be too rough in case he is hurt somewhere else he can’t see. “I’m serious. You started boxing so you could learn how to control your anger, Zayn.”

“I started boxing as an outlet for my anger,” he corrects quietly. “Boxing doesn’t stop people from being pricks to you, Li. That has and will always make me angry. You know that, Li.”

Liam only nods, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “Well.”

Zayn gives him an exaggerated groan after a moment, moving so his head lays in Liam’s lap, a smile tugging at his lips when he says, “Gonna have to take care of me now. Carry me to your room, I’m wounded.”

Liam grins, running his hand over his scalp. He kind of misses the way he used to be able to run his fingers through Zayn’s hair whenever he wanted. It was always so soft despite the product, and because he was the only person that was allowed to. 

“Why me?”

“Fought for your honor. And ‘cause I’m your favorite,” Zayn murmurs, eyes flitting shut and appeasement settling over his face as he makes himself comfortable on his lap.

Liam doesn’t deny it.

He brings Zayn back to his room, letting Zayn lean on him because apparently he thinks the guy he fought broke both of his legs, or something (not that Liam minds at all, because he gets to keep an arm around Zayn’s shoulders this way.) And Zayn convinces him to skip the rest of the classes he has for the rest of the day to lay next him, watching old reruns of some show Liam has never heard of, though it doesn’t matter because it can’t be is hard to heard over the music that Zayn insists on listening to as well.

Liam brushes a finger under Zayn’s lip as he hums along to the music, careful not to touch where it is sore. “You should put some more of that cream on that, so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Okay, Dr. Liam,” he retorts, nose wrinkling into a laugh.

Liam tries to frown, but he fails, smiling softly as he drags his thumb across Zayn’s lower lip, slightly chapped from the cool air. Zayn’s lips part, and he adds pressure a bit to part them further. He drops his thumb when he realizes what it probably looks like when his tongue flicks out to wet his lips, because he can’t stop thinking about how Zayn’s would feel against his own.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, rolling onto his back so Zayn can’t see the warmth he feels coating his face.

Zayn snickers, adjusting his position until he is back to being fitted against Liam’s side. “Don’t be sorry for touching me. You know I don’t mind.”

Liam bites his tongue so he doesn’t gasp at that, because he is pretty sure Zayn doesn’t realize how that sounds, or what it does to him when he drops his voice low like that. Just the thought of touching Zayn makes his stomach twist.

“Yeah?” Liam murmurs, rolling to his side. His heart hammers heavily in his chest though he is only reaching out to press his palm to Zayn’s warm cheek. His expression is soft, those long lashes fluttering to expand across his cheekbones when he leans his head into Liam’s touch.

 “Mhm,” Zayn hums, scooching closer.

He knows Zayn doesn’t mean touch in the way Liam thinks, or _wants_ , but he is glad that Zayn doesn’t get freaked out by the soft touches from him, so he’ll take it.

Zayn blinks his eyes open and frowns at him and Liam is a second away from pulling his hand away when Zayn places his own on top of his like he can tell.

“It’s okay,” Zayn sighs, eyes falling back closed. He doesn’t specify what he means, and it is confusing but Liam stays quiet, moving closer to rest his chin on the top of Zayn’s head. He wishes Zayn hadn’t shaved, so Liam can get away with pressing his lips into his hair like he used to.

++

Liam likes to scold him for being a danger magnet, as he calls it, but Zayn can handle the scrapes and bruises from falling off his skateboard, deals with the punches and kicks he gets because he is the one that throws the first punch more times than not. He can’t, however, handle the way Liam keeps touching him ever since Zayn told him that he didn’t mind if he did.

It used to only be him, touching Liam. On the back, the thigh, knee, chin – anywhere really that could be interpreted as platonic if you witnessed it with your eyes closed. But, he isn’t used to Liam touching him back, really. Not without reason at least. But now there is no reason for it, he just reaches out to softly wrap his fingers around Zayn’s wrist, brush a thumb against his jaw, and the constant palm he keeps smoothing across Zayn’s scalp.

Zayn can’t handle it, because it makes him want to touch Liam back in a completely different manner. Just as gentle, but he wants to touch Liam’s lips, the soft bare skin of his inner thighs, the ridges of his abdomen, cradle his hips, move his lips down the knobs of his spine -

Zayn hits the bag in front of him hard, huffing out a harsh breath. His heart pounds brutally in his ears, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he tries to control his breathing. He is covered in sweat, and his body aches because he has been here for hours, just trying to clear his mind.

Of Liam, of the scolding he got from Jarvis, his trainer, for the bruises and split lip and how he should be lucky that he left before the campus police got there.

Which he knows. He gets that. He just hates when people act tough when they have an audience, and the moment Liam’s name came out of that dickhead’s mouth he just snapped.

People always want to be cruel to the kindest, the most undeserving and Zayn hates that the most, and it hypes him up just thinking about it.

But not thinking about that means having to think about how it feels every time Liam touches him, and he isn’t sure which one is more frustrating.

He slowly takes off his gloves, padding over to the locker room and to the showers. He closes his eyes under the spray of water, trying to wash away the image of Liam sprawled out on his bed, thighs spread and cock curved towards his stomach, but it stays imprinted there until Zayn’s cock is aching too and he drags himself out of the showers, thankful he brought a pair of jeans instead of the joggers he had been planning on bringing. Even though the material does little to cover him.

“Zayn,” Jarvis says, poking his head into the locker room. “Liam is here. Okay to send him back here?”

Jarvis always does that, whenever someone stops by to see one of the fighters. A protection thing, he says, in case someone comes by with not so good intentions. Liam comes by enough that Jarvis should know, but he always asks anyway.

Zayn holds in his groan and nods. They are supposed to meet in a few hours, at Harry’s before they go out for the night. He doesn’t feel like going, but Liam wants to, and Zayn knows that prick Watts, or Wells, or whatever that girl’s boyfriend’s name is, is going to be there most likely so Zayn has to go.

He readjusts himself before Liam walks in, that soft smile that he always wears on his face. “Hey, thought maybe you’d want to get something to eat before we go out,” he greets.

The shaved style really works for Liam, especially with the thick of his beard. He wears a black sweater underneath that coat he has had forever, trimmed with wool and bulky around his frame, but his cheeks are red from the wind and cold. His fingers are chilly, when they reach out and brush against Zayn’s bare arm, his own skin still warm from the shower.

“I um, yeah. We can. I just have to go back to my room and change. Wanna meet up after?”

“I can go with you, if you want. It’s not going to take long?”

Zayn glares at him before he can stop himself. Liam doesn’t know that he needs to relieve himself, and he isn’t going to tell Liam that either, so he nods.

The walk back to campus is torturous, because Liam keeps doing _Liam_ things and they are driving Zayn a bit mad. His eyes crinkling when he laughs, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips even though it is cold and they are going to get chapped. The way he shrugs his smile into his shoulder when Zayn slides an arm around his lower back to keep him close, which he probably shouldn’t do because Liam smells good and he wants to press his nose into the crook of his neck and see if Liam tastes just as good -

He tries to be casual, low key about the fact that he wants to press Liam into the wall the moment they step into his dorm room, but he really isn’t and he isn’t sure how Liam hasn’t been able to figure it out yet.

Or maybe he does know, and is trying to torture Zayn even though that is completely unlike Liam. He asks for one of Zayn’s shirt when they get in, barely waiting for a response before he is taking off the sweater he wears. Zayn is glad Liam is turned around at least, so he can gently squeeze himself through his jeans just to relieve the ache, and the way his cock twitches when his eyes rake over Liam’s back, muscular and defined. A lot different than when they were younger, before Liam had started working out.

He feels kind of creepy standing there and having a crisis while he stares at his best mate’s back, so he digs through his drawers to distract himself, trying to find something to wear that will get him laid tonight. Or a blowie in the bathroom. Whatever, just something that will ease his mind away from Liam.

He settles with a black button up with a black shirt underneath, cut low enough that the wings and start of red lips on his chest peek out. Liam offers to help him when he puts in the hoops in his one ear, and Zayn lets him because his mother had been right when she told him that he causes most of his own problems.

“Ready?” Liam says, reaching out to brush his thumb under Zayn’s bottom lip. He really shouldn’t have told Liam that touching him whenever he wants is a good thing to do, because he wants to groan, and suck Liam’s thumb in-between his lips just to see the way Liam’s eyes would probably get wide and his skin would flush.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he breathes out.

Zayn decides to invite the other boys to get food with them, feeling bad when he tells Liam and it makes his face falls.

“I’m sorry. Next time, just you and me. Promise.” Zayn leans in to whisper the words against his ear, and Liam’s shoulder comes up as he grins.

His face falls again though, when Zayn sits himself between Harry and Niall, making Liam sit across from him with Louis. He hooks an ankle around Liam’s, making that smile come fluttering back.

It is strange, not sitting next to Liam and everyone notices. Even Louis gives him a genuinely concerned look. It’s just part of their group dynamic. Liam and Zayn, attached at the hip. 

He doesn’t know why he thought having the three other boys around would be enough to keep him from having his full attention on Liam, either. He is aware of every flick of Liam’s eyes in his direction, every drag of his tongue against his bottom lip, every time he rubs at his jaw.

Even when they get to the bar, and they are surrounded by people, Zayn is all too aware of Liam’s body near him, or when he gets separated from the group and Zayn has to wait for him to catch up.

Melissa has their beers sliding towards them without them ordering, sending Niall a glare that is too soft to be meaningful and maybe Liam had been right with his bet, but he will still stick with his though he knows he will end up reading the book to Liam whether or not he wins or loses.

He slips away to find someone distracting when Liam leans over the counter to talk to Julian, another bartender, and after he makes Harry promise to stick with Liam in case that Wetts guy comes around, and to text him if he does because he knows Liam won’t tell him.

She is nice, soft and giggly, and touchy, asking Zayn off to the bathroom halfway through a song before he can get a chance to do it himself. It is fumbled, and good at first, but her hands are too soft when they ruck up his shirt, voice not deep, not rough, not _Liam_ enough when she whispers what she is going to do that he apologizes when her fingers grip at his zipper, and he feels bad, he does, when she storms off with harsh words and rude gestures directed at him.

Zayn slumps against the bathroom wall, a hand dragging down his face. Fucking Liam Payne –

The other night, after the fight, he could have sworn Liam was a breath away from kissing him. He could have been thinking too much into it, but the shock on Liam’s face when he pulled his thumb away from his lips made him think he wanted to, and that has been messing with his head more so than anything else.

He drags himself out of the bathroom once he has gotten himself together enough to actually see Liam without doing anything drastic like kiss him or talk about his feelings, or demand to know why Liam has started touching him so much.

“Where were you?” Liam asks, handing him his bottle. There is a tinge of pink coating his skin, lips swollen like he has been chewing on them. Something like relief seems to coat his expression when he reaches out and grazes his fingers against Zayn’s hip.

“Um, bathroom.”

“That tosser, the big one, came around,” Harry says. He takes a long sip from his straw, something dark red in his cup and Zayn waits, eyes flicking between Liam and Harry. If he has to wait any longer, he will just go find the guy himself and ask questions later.

“You told me to text you. I did.”

Liam frowns, looking between them. “It wasn’t anything,” he insists, words thick sounding. “Just the same ol’.”

Zayn reaches out, cupping the back of Liam’s neck, thumb smoothing across his skin. “You alright?”

Liam’s face falls when he sighs, and he presses their foreheads together, making Zayn’s breath catch because for a moment when he leaned in Zayn thought –

“I’m okay,” Liam tells him, words hard to hear under the _love can be love, anything you want I’ll give it up -_

“Want me to go settle it?” Zayn hums, gnawing at his bottom lip. The anger he feels is so different when it’s for Liam and not himself. He hates it the most.

Liam shakes his head quickly, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Zayn’s shirt and keep him there. “No, please stay with me?”

Zayn nods, pulling back some. “Want to come outside with me so I can smoke. Need to clear my head, and I hate this song.”

Liam looks alarmed, mouth falling open in offense as Zayn tugs him away from the bar after they slide on their jackets.

“This is a good song,” he insists as Zayn leads them through the crowd.

Zayn snorts. “Talking bodies? What does that mean?”

Liam is crowded against his back as they move towards the exit, hand curling around Zayn’s waist so he doesn’t get lost. “You’ve got the perfect one, so put it on me -”

Zayn’s stomach tightens, and he slides his fingers with Liam to keep him pressed to him like that, pulling him out faster now that he is desperate for fresh air.

“Liam Payne,” he sighs, shaking his head when they are finally outside, and he leans against the wall of the building.

“Hm?” Liam hums, coming right in front of him and sliding a palm against his jaw.

“You drive me a bit mad like,” Zayn starts, inhaling his cigarette so he doesn’t have to finish. He sees something flicker across Liam’s face, and he covers Liam’s hand with his own so he doesn’t move it away.

He just wants Liam to stay with him too.

Zayn searches his face but Liam is just looking at him, a soft tilt to the corner of his lips. He is careful not to blow smoke in Liam’s face, but he keeps Liam’s hand against his cheek when he turns his head.

“ _You got a perfect one so put it on me_ ,” Zayn repeats, smirking.

“S’ a song,” Liam chuckles, tilting his head.

“Yeah well.” Zayn flicks his cigarette, stubbing it out with his toe but he doesn’t move. He plants his palm against Liam’s chest, feeling the thud of his heart underneath. “My point still stands.”

Liam’s eyebrows push together. “You didn’t make a point.”

He knows he shouldn’t, tells himself not to, but his fingers curl where they are resting against Liam’s shirt, pulling him closer anyway. Liam’s breath hitches, his hand falling from Zayn’s cheek to rest against his hip.

The realization of what he is about to do hits him like a brick as he leans  forward to hover his lips over Liam’s, and he diverts them, breezing past Liam’s cheek and to his ear. “Let’s go back inside, bad man,” he whispers, hoping he sounds as calm as he normally does, and not like he is being choked, which is how he feels -

“Zayn,” Liam whines, but he lets Zayn lock their fingers and tug them back inside.

Liam crowds against his back again when they get back to the bar, pushing him into the edge of the counter. Zayn tries to wave down Melissa, who is leaning over the counter with red cheeks and heart eyes directed towards Niall.

“Did you mean it?” Liam says against his ear, voice loud so he can be heard over the music, but he might as well have whispered it rough and dirty the way his body reacts. “You really don’t mind if I touch you?”

Zayn twists between the counter and Liam so he is facing his best mate again. Liam has a curious look on his face.

“Because sometimes you look like you mind,” Liam goes on, eyes still bright. His teeth rub at his lower lip, tongue flicking over the indents left behind. “That’s why I always stop, but um, sometimes I can’t help it?

“I don’t mind,” Zayn says, trying to focus on how to produce words and not how Liam’s just made him feel. “That’s just what drives me mad.”

Liam’s lips quirk up and he is pressing closer. He should mind, because they are around a crowd of people and the counter is starting to dig painfully into his back, but he can’t because Liam’s hands are sliding on the counter behind him, allowing him to align their bodies together and Liam just grins more, ducking his head down until his lips hover over Zayn’s.

His lips ghost over Zayn’s cheek, and he can feel the smile Liam presses against his ear. “It drove me a bit mad when you did that.”

Zayn groans, clutching Liam’s shirt when he thinks Liam is going to move his head back, he doesn’t. “Everything about you drives me a bit mad.”

“Yeah?” Liam’s lips move against his ear again but he pulls back so Zayn can see the way his eyebrow quirks up, the smirk on his lips. Liam is definitely purposefully teasing him, and he gives in, because the need has been building up all day, all week, for years really, slowly pushing Zayn to the edge and he jumps, catching Liam’s lips with his own.

Liam doesn’t hesitate in reacting, a hand coming up to cup the back of Zayn’s neck, lips falling into sync with Zayn’s. They battle for control until Liam relents, lips parting when Zayn’s tongue pushes against them, his fingers relaxing where they grip into Zayn’s neck and letting him guide the kiss.

Zayn clings to him when Liam presses him closer to the counter, tongue exploring the taste of beer and cherries on Liam’s tongue. He can’t hear the groan, but can feel the way it vibrates against his lips when Zayn’s teeth catch on Liam’s lower one, gently sucking it into his mouth just to see how full it will look swollen and bruised.

He has imagined this a million times in his head over the last eight years, and never imagined that if he ever got the chance to kiss Liam it would be in the middle of everyone they go to school with, a generic club mix of a slow song banging in his ears, the distinct sound of Louis’ _holy shit_ –

Zayn did imagine that Liam’s lips would be soft though, and he would be gentle and malleable in his hands. He isn’t hesitant when his tongue flicks out along the seam of Zayn’s lips, doesn’t hold back the need to press his hips against Zayn’s when he sucks softly on Liam’s tongue.

“You owe me ten quid,” Niall says cheerfully from beside them, but Zayn ignores them. Liam pulls back some, but Zayn can feel the grin he keeps pressed to his lips before Zayn is pushing his lips forward to part Liam’s again.

“Zayn is going to suffocate him,” Harry groans.

“I’m pretty sure Liam has the upper hand here, Haz,” Louis adds through his laughter. “Wait, ew. Maybe you are right –“

Zayn pulls away from Liam, reaching out to punch Louis in the shoulder. Liam’s lips don’t stay far, moving to graze against his jaw and Zayn might just explode.

“Fuck off,” Zayn snaps, curling his arms around Liam’s lower back to keep him close.

“Let’s go,” he thinks he hears Liam murmur so he pulls back to look at Liam’s face, a lazy grin on his lips and cheeks redder than Zayn has ever seen them before.

“Yeah?” He breathes.

They detangle themselves enough from each other, and their friends to stumble out of there, Liam’s hands firm on Zayn’s hips, lips scraping the back of his neck. He is glad Liam suggested they leave, because he gets to hear the groans low in Liam’s throat when Zayn slots their lips back together, waddling down the sidewalk. They are beautiful sounding, rough and desperate, and Zayn lets out a moan of his own when Liam’s fingers dig into the back of his thighs and half carries him back to his dorm.

“Careful,” he chuckles when Liam presses him harshly against the door to his room, fumbling with the handle.

“Sorry,” Liam grins. “Just can’t stop kissing you.”

Zayn slides an arm around his neck. “Then bring me inside, bad man.”

He aches again, but is content with Liam’s soft kisses, the gentle drag of his lips and the soft noises he lets out whenever Zayn grinds down against him because he can’t help it. He can feel the length of Liam’s cock against his hip, but he knows he shouldn’t –

“It’s okay,” Liam breathes, palms sliding up Zayn’s back. “We can – whatever you want –“

Zayn groans, ducking his head into the crook of Liam’s neck to nip at the skin there. He really wants to – _everything_ with Liam. But the bathroom girl –

Zayn rolls off of him, resting on his back, trying to catch his breath. Liam stiffens, and Zayn slides his fingers with his, squeezing them. “I almost hooked up with someone at the bar.”

Liam doesn’t say anything and Zayn doesn’t look away from the ceiling, until Liam is leaning over him, brows pushed together. “But you didn’t?”

Zayn shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip. He presses his palms to Liam’s cheeks, wondering if it is okay to voice the thoughts in his head. He needs to – “I just, um wanted –I only wanted to be with you?”

“Then I don’t care,” he says. There is a grin on his face, and there is nothing in his expression or eyes that could let Zayn know if he means it or not. His words are no longer slurred, but his ears burn red like they do when he has been drinking. “But we don’t have to like, hook up – if you don’t want to.”

Zayn runs his thumbs across Liam’s smooth skin. He doesn’t want to hook up with Liam. He wants to spread Liam out, gently slide his cock into him, wants to feel him squeeze around him and kiss him softly and  wake up next to him and hold him in his arms, kiss him whenever he pleases and tell him the things he isn’t allowed to talk about.

“I want to,” he murmurs, pushing up to go back to their former position, Liam lying on his back and Zayn crawling into his lap. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure, Zayn.”

“On a scale of one to ten how drunk are you?”

“Barely tipsy,” Liam promises, holding a pink between them. “I had like, three beers barely. I’m pretty sure Niall was sneaking most of them because Melissa was giving him a hard time about getting him drinks. Mating ritual, I don’t know.”

Zayn searches his face, considering. “Okay. You’re sure?”

Liam nods, eyes flitting shut and lips pouting out like he is waiting for Zayn to kiss him again. He is the cutest fucker –

Zayn pecks his lips quickly before reaching into the drawer beside his bed to pull out a condom and some lube. He isn’t sure if that’s what Liam meant when he said hook up, but Liam only groans when Zayn flops the bottle of lube onto his chest, his fingers reaching to dig into the curve of Zayn’s ass and pull his hips down against his.

“Gotta take your clothes off babe,” Zayn murmurs, gripping the sides of his torso to pull him until he is sitting up. He tugs at the material of his shirt and Liam lets him pull it off of him, hands moving to slide off Zayn’s button up before the material hits the ground.

“You should take me to the gym with you,” Liam murmurs, leaning forward to run his tongue across the wings on his chest after he pulls off the black shirt. Zayn’s fingers dig into the back of his head as he holds Liam there, sucking softly above the lips, forming a mark the shape of his own.

“Why? You’re fit babe,” Zayn says, fingers reaching between them to work on the buttons of Liam’s pants, which is difficult given their position. He scrambles off of Liam, working on his own as Liam lays flat on the bed and tugs his off too.

“Not as fit as you.”

Liam spreads his legs, showing the spatter of hair across the soft part of his thighs, stomach muscles tensing when he runs a thumb along the edge of his briefs like he wants to touch but he is waiting for Zayn to. He is so beautiful that Zayn just kind of looks at him before he gets himself together and climbs back onto Liam’s lap.

Liam pulls up again, arms wrapping around his lower back as Zayn kisses him slow, hips working against his gently just to hear the moans that Liam makes against his lips. He wants to taste every one and relish in the fact that that is him who is causing Liam to make those noises.

“Lay back,” he murmurs, a hand firm against Liam’s chest. It is slow, the way he moves his lips across Liam’s collarbone, tongue rolling along his skin as he makes his way down Liam’s torso, biting marks that fade too fast along each ridge of his abdomens, across his navel and on his hip, sucking the skin there until it resembles the heart inked on Zayn’s.

“Zayn,” Liam whimpers, fingers, sliding against his scalp when Zayn flicks his tongue under the start of his briefs. It is too dark for Zayn to see Liam’s face clearly, but he can see the way Liam has his lip trapped between his teeth, the overwhelmed and aroused look in his eyes.

“Continue?” Zayn murmurs, hooking a finger under the material. He waits until Liam tells him to go on before he tugs the material down and spreads Liam’s legs to work his mouth at the soft skin on the inside of his thighs.

He is overwhelmed too, and itching to hurry it up and get off, but he wants to savor every harsh breath Liam lets out, wants to taste every inch of Liam’s skin, mark every inch he can. He wonders if Liam would beg for it, which he thinks he probably would. He would fumble and rush but try and make it good for Zayn at the same time.

And Zayn wants to make it good for him, and touch him until he knows those feelings Zayn has always kept hidden in his chest.

Liam throws the bottle of lube at him, hitting him in the shoulder with a grin and a needy huff of breath that Zayn thinks was probably meant to be laughter. He grins, pressing his lips to the thick of Liam’s cock briefly, tongue sliding along the vein on the underside just to taste –

He slicks his fingers, sliding one between Liam’s cheeks carefully, rubbing a finger against his hole until Liam is wiggling down against him, little needy breaths passing his lips. Zayn nudges his finger in slowly, unsure of how experienced Liam is with this. He places open mouth kisses along Liam’s length, trying to ease the tension out of his muscles as he works his finger in deeper.

Liam is so tight and desperate for it that Zayn moans, hips working against the mattress because he can’t quite handle how good Liam sounds, feels – the fact that this is _Liam_ spread out before him.

“God Zayn,” Liam moans, fingers scratching along Zayn’s scalp like he is trying to grip onto something. He wishes he had his longer hair suddenly, so Liam could slide his fingers through it like he used to, and tug harsh or gentle, Zayn really doesn’t care.

Liam’s arms fall to his sides instead, flexing against the sheets rucked up underneath his hips until Zayn slides the fingers of his free hand between Liam’s.  

His tongue slides along the slit of Liam’s cock, lapping up the precome pooling at the head. He moans, unable to help himself because – “So wet, Li.”

Liam groans unabashedly, reaching to cup Zayn’s cheek as he suckles at the head, a second digit pressing against him. He gets a hand around himself and Zayn cock twitches when he gets the hint, watching Liam pull back the extra skin and slowly pumping himself before guiding his cock to Zayn nudge against his lips. He watches Liam as wraps his lips around the head, eyes fluttering shut as he moans at the heavy of Liam on his tongue, the thick of Liam’s cock stretching his lips obscenely -

Liam is beautiful when he arches into the mattress, legs quaking as Zayn works his fingers deep, rubbing against that ball of nerves. His hand is gentle against Zayn’s jaw, but his fingers dig into his cheek slightly when Zayn sinks lower, nose tickling against the smear of precome along his abdomen. 

He always knew how beautiful Liam is, never understood how it was possible, but this is overwhelming. Zayn’s chest can’t expand any more than it has, and his fingers work quicker into him as he pulls off Liam’s cock, lips moving back up Liam’s torso because he isn’t sure if he is going to last long like this, and he doesn’t want to get off from grinding against his sheets.

“Feels good?” he murmurs, lips working against Liam’s jaw. His body presses against Liam, trapping him against the mattress as he works his fingers quickly and Liam curls his hips forward, legs wrapping around his back.

“Fuck,” Liam groans. “Why the hell would you ask that –“

Zayn chuckles, pressing his lips to Liam’s. “Want another?”

Liam nods, hand catching on the back of his head as Zayn licks into his mouth, tasting every moan that rolls off his tongue as he nudges a third digit in.

He moves his lips to the column of his throat, moaning because Liam is so receptive to his every touch, tilting his head back into the pillow, spreading his legs and fucking back against Zayn’s fingers – “So good for me, yeah, Liam?”

“Yeah,” Liam breathes, eyes blown out and overwhelmed. “I’m – yeah.”

“Yeah?” Zayn breathes back, ghosting his lips back over his lips. Liam nods, and Zayn slides his fingers gently out, not moving for a moment because Liam looks so good debauched and vulnerable but so _trusting_ –

Always with Zayn, even though Zayn’s temper is worse than the guys that used to bully Liam, even though he knows Liam knows that he can be rough and could hurt him, but Liam trusts that he would _never_.

Zayn pulls up, resting back on his shins to wrap a hand around himself, his other sliding to cup Liam’s thigh, pulling him closer. There is a flush creeping along Liam’s skin, even in the dark Zayn can see how beautiful it is, and his chest rises and falls heavy with each breath, fingers curling into the sheets, sweat lining his brow, pooling at his navel and Zayn has to catch his breath after he slides on the condom and he nudges forward, teasing Liam’s hole gently.

“Yeah,” Liam breathes again as if he could tell Zayn was about to ask him if he was sure. Zayn pushes forward slowly, circling and nudging his hips forward, stretching Liam carefully because he lets out overwhelmed breaths, small hisses of pain that has Zayn leaning forward, fingers capturing his jaw –

“I got you,” he murmurs against Liam’s lips, resting their foreheads together. Liam nods, the tension slowly seeping out of his muscles as Zayn bottoms out. He stays there for a moment, coaxing Liam’s lips open with his tongue, kissing him slowly until he is relaxed and grinding his hips back against Zayn’s to get him moving.

“I got you, yeah?” Zayn repeats, waiting for Liam to respond before he is pulling his hips back.

“I know.”

Liam’s fingers dig into his neck, into the muscles of his back as Zayn thrusts back into him, every drag of his cock careful and gentle, grinding deep before he pulls back, trying to make this good for Liam –

“Faster, Zayn, please,” Liam moans, words choked.

“Yeah?” Zayn teases, grinning as he picks up the pace, fast strokes that have Liam keening, nails digging into his skin, making these noises that jolt down Zayn’s spine and curl under his navel.

His moans muffle against Liam’s throat, teeth carving crescents against his skin. Liam’s cock twitches between their abdomens, and he feels so thick pressed against him that Zayn is already thinking of a next time, having Liam stretch him open with thick fingers -

Zayn pushes himself up to get a hand around Liam, wanting to see the pleasure twist across his features. “Tell me babe,” he pants, ducking his head down to breathe the words against Liam’s lips.

Liam gasps, eyes fluttering shut. “Please, Zayn just –“

Zayn matches the movements of his hands over Liam’s length with his thrusts. “Like that?”

He looks up at him through heavy lidded eyes, lips trapping between his teeth as he nods, hips snapping back against Zayn’s, making the most obscene and loveliest sound -

“Close,” Liam grunts out, sliding his hands down Zayn’s back, nails digging into his hips and Zayn hisses. He curls an arm around Liam’s thigh, pressing it into his chest to change the angle, feeling Liam clench around him as his body starts to shutter underneath him.

“Yeah? Gonna let me see you come?”

Liam nods, eyes fluttering shut, head digging into the mattress. He is so beautiful, lips falling open around choked sounds, his body quaking under Zayn, clenching around him –

Zayn grinds deep, against that ball of nerves as Liam comes hotly, streaking across his fingers and between their abdomens, mouth forming a silent moan despite how loud he has been this whole time.

“Fuck,” Liam shutters out, lips tilting into a grin. He chokes out an overwhelmed breath that breaks and rattles in his chest when Zayn pulls out until it is only the tip of his cock nestled in Liam, before he fucks back into him roughly.

“Good boy,” Zayn moans, pressing his lips to that smile. Liam works his hips with Zayn, strong arms wrapping around his frame and hugging him tightly to his chest. Each stroke, the twist in Zayn’s gut, pulling him closer -

“For you,” Liam says and he can hear the grin in his voice, the proud way he says it–

Zayn’s thrusts stagger and Liam squeezes his arms around him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear until he comes with a muffled groan pressed to Liam’s lips to shut him up. Liam is innocent, vulnerable but somehow dirty and obscene and he can’t handle it.

“Liam Payne,” Zayn groans, hips stuttering to coax out the rest of his orgasm. Liam quirks a brow that falters as Zayn slowly pulls out. He bites at Liam’s lower lip, teeth tugging it into his mouth just to hold back the sounds stuck in his throat from the waves of pleasure curling around in his abdomen.

“Drive you a bit mad?” Liam huffs, fingers staying on Zayn’s side when he leans back to tug off the condom. He chucks it towards the trash, hoping it lands in there. He isn’t going to check because he can’t imagine doing anything other than staying right next to Liam.

“Beautiful,” Zayn starts, leaning back over him. “I was going to tell you how beautiful you are.”

Warmth creeps up Liam’s cheeks despite the fact that they are already so red, and he doesn’t respond, instead busies himself with reaching for a shirt on the ground to wipe off the come smeared up his abdomen.

“If I’m beautiful than you’re like, beautiful times two,” he insists around a grin.

Zayn snorts, rolling to Liam’s side. His fingers ghost over Liam’s jaw, down his neck and across the purpled marks that will fade too soon. “Let me compliment you, yeah? Been waiting a long time –“

He bites his tongue, eyes widening some when he hears Liam’s sharp intake of breath. “Just – you’re beautiful, Liam. Let me tell you that.”

Liam nods. “Sorry, I just want to be able to tell you too.”

Zayn smiles but Liam can’t see as he moves them, pulling Liam to his chest and fitting their bodies together just right. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs.

Liam rubs his fingers up the knobs of his spine, his warm breath cascading against his collarbone and Zayn can’t really tell if that thud is from Liam’s chest or his own.

“Stay, okay?” he whispers, before Liam can say anything. His face is scrunching like it does sometimes when he is thinking too hard and Zayn doesn’t want to think at the moment, just wants to settle into the calm that hangs around them, bask in the scent of Liam and the way it feels in this moment because he isn’t too sure how long it is going to last.

Zayn had accepted a long time ago Liam would never be his, he didn’t mind – won’t mind if this moment doesn’t mean that he could be, but he would like to pretend, at least for the night.

++

Liam rolls over, snuggling into Zayn’s warmth until his cheek presses against the other man’s chest. He can see the purpling marks that he had left behind the night before, smell the scent of their colognes mixing and that musky scent of sex and _man_ – and Liam bites around his grin, even though Zayn can’t see because he still feels embarrassed about how giddy he feels.

He curls his arm around Zayn’s hip, tugging him closer and Zayn groans tiredly, fingers coming up to slide against the bristle of hair on Liam’s scalp, though his eyes remain closed. He has always slept heavy, and Liam is fine with staying here, listening to his soft breaths and the steady rhythm of his heart, replaying the events of last night in his mind because he can’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that it happened.

_You drive me a bit mad like –_

Liam had thought he had hooked up with someone, smelt her perfume on his shirt and saw the smudge of lipstick against his jaw. He always is jealous when Zayn is with someone else, but he was just going to shove down the feelings he had until Zayn said that –

And then Liam felt the need for Zayn to know that it was _him_ who drove Liam a bit mad. All the time, but especially since Zayn started reacting to his small touches, a warmth coating his skin, eyes widening and teeth digging into his bottom lip. And especially since yesterday, when he noticed the way Zayn’s cock strained against his jeans, the way his skin remained flushed the whole time they were changing and while they were out to eat, and he had avoided being around Liam, which he never does.

 _I only wanted to be with you_ . That replays in his mind, and he tries to convince himself that he hadn’t made that up in his head. Zayn had really said that. Called him beautiful, made him feel like this could be more than just last night -

Zayn’s fingers move against his scalp and he hums lowly in his throat as his lips rub against Liam’s hairline. “Stop waking me up,” he mutters.

“M’not doing anything,” Liam grins, pressing his lips to the curve of muscle on Zayn’s chest.

“C’mere,” Zayn murmurs, fingers sliding down to cup his jaw and tilt his head upwards. His eyes are heavy with sleep, only blinking open for a moment before he is pressing his lips to Liam’s. It still makes Liam’s heart jump, his stomach twist with excitement because he can’t believe he has finally been able to kiss Zayn –

“Now stop waking me up,” Zayn says against his lips, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth before he is falling back against the pillow.

“M’not doing anything,” Liam says again, propping his chin on his chest so he can keep looking at him. “Want me to leave?”

Zayn’s face scrunches into a frown and his arms wrap around Liam’s shoulders, holding him close. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then be quiet and go to sleep,” Liam murmurs, but he crawls up the bed until their faces are level, ducking down to coax Zayn’s lips open with his own.

He can feel Zayn’s grin against his lips, humming in contentment as Liam rolls him so spine is flat to the mattress. The words are at the tip of his tongue, the tongue that curls and licks at the roof of Zayn’s mouth. He wants to say them, can’t find a logical reason not to –

“Zayn,” he murmurs, pulling back. Zayn’s lips are parted, slick and swollen, purpling from now or last night, Liam can’t be sure but it’s beautiful and makes his heart race. “Can I tell you something?”

Zayn nods, planting his hands on Liam’s hips. His face falls into something harder, less relaxed than the sleepy expression he just wore.

“I am Liam Payne,” he starts, blushing because he is such a knob, but he trusts Zayn. He knows he will be gentle with him even if he makes a fool of himself. Zayn’s eyes light up, nose crinkling as he chuckles. “Best friend of Harry Styles, neighbors to Niall Horan, somehow like a brother to Louis Tomlinson.”

He huffs out a breath, watching Zayn’s face crumple in confusion. It feels weird saying it out loud to someone who isn’t his mum or Harry, but especially to Zayn, because he has wanted to say it for so long.

To just have him understand how much he means to him, to just try and grasp the concept that Liam’s best moments are with Zayn, with friends or alone, it doesn’t matter because it always feels like just the two of them because Liam has a hard time focusing on anything else. And his heart squeezes painfully whenever Zayn is hurt like his hurt is Liam’s hurt, and he wants to do nothing more than take care of him and protect him and do everything for Zayn that Zayn does for him.

But it is all too much to say, so he keeps it simple, summing it up into a few words, “And in love with Zayn Malik.”

Zayn stares up at him, lips parting, tongue flicking out to wet them and Liam doesn’t allow him the chance to say anything because the pace of his heart is edging towards uncomfortable, ears starting to pound from it, cheeks heating up because he is so embarrassing and maybe this should have waited –

“I have been like, from the start. Always. And this is probably not the best time to do this, and I’m probably mucking this up but you treat me different than you treat everyone else, always gentle and caring for me, and I just feel like maybe I’m as special to you as you are as special to me.“

God he is rambling, cause things he wants to say keeps popping into his head and he needs to get them out but Zayn is just looking at him –

Zayn flips them, pushing Liam onto his back and his head rests awkwardly against the wall, but there is a bright grin on Zayn’s face, tinged with an amusement that travels up into his eyes. He ducks down, lips pressing against Liam’s and Liam goes with it, slotting his lips with Zayn’s and sighing into his mouth because maybe this is better than talking.

But Zayn pulls away, a forearm bracketing one side of Liam’s head, fingers tickling against his scalp. “Special to me?” He repeats, shaking his head. His other hand slides up Liam’s chest, flattening under his collarbone. “Bit of an understatement bro. More like, I dunno, the one thing I can’t really live without. Not just you, but us.”

Liam bites around his grin, watching Zayn. The vulnerability in his eyes, the stain of pink across his cheeks – that’s only for Liam to see.

“So like, I guess that would mean I’m Zayn Malik, in love with that Liam Payne guy.”

“Yeah?” Liam can’t help the way his smile pushes into his cheeks, making them ache. Zayn nods, pressing his lips to Liam’s again. “You’re not just saying that because we messed around last night?”

Zayn pulls back, giving him a bewildered look until he realizes Liam is just messing with him, and he glares. “You are the one that brought it up.”

Liam curls his arms around Zayn’s back, grinning. “I just wanted to remind you that we messed around last night.”

Zayn’s nose wrinkles and he shakes his head fondly. “I’m pretty sure I can’t forget that. Unless, you want to show me? Jog my memory a bit?”

Liam snorts. “Of course just um, say it again?”

Zayn grins, the light from his smile reaching into his eyes. “I love you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to his cheekbone. His lips tickle against his skin as he whispers, his voice filled with a softness that is just for Liam. “Didn’t think I could talk about it before, but I tried to show you in tiny ways.”

He pulls back, looking down at him with an expression that is just as soft as his words. “You drive me a bit mad, like –“

“I love you too,” Liam says around his grin. “I hope you won’t mind if I keep saying it because I’ve kind of gone all this time with keeping it to myself and I don’t want to anymore.“

Zayn shakes his head fondly. “I won’t mind.”

++

“Liam, focus.”

Zayn waits until he is watching before he starts moving again, fists jabbing out slow, almost robotic as he maps out each move he wants Liam to mimic. He is graceful when he picks up the pace, dancing along the floor, counting softly under his breath as his fists flash around Liam. It’s hard to keep up with him sometimes, even though Liam has always been proud of his own stamina. 

Zayn is patient with him, a good teacher. And gentle, never doing anything more than applying pressure when Liam’s stance isn’t quite proper, tapping his glove to Liam’s cheek or under his ribs with a grin and a chuckled, “ _got you –“_ when they practice against each other.

“Liam,” Zayn huffs out, tapping his glove to the center of Liam’s chest. There is a focused, determined look on his face, but it is betrayed by the amusement that tugs at his lips, brightens his eyes. “Focus.”

Liam nods, raising his arms to mimic Zayn’s stance, following the movement of his arms, the way he ducks his head and moves his feet. Zayn covers Liam’s gloves with his own, guiding him slowly when he tries to show him something new or something Liam doesn’t get, always whispering words of encouragement that make his cheeks warm and his stomach flip, because Zayn always speaks to him like he is so _proud_ and _fond_ -

“You’re a natural, Li. Gonna be able to kick my ass once we get some more practice in you,” Zayn grins, dodging Liam’s glove before he can even get it close to him.

“You’ll let me,” Liam argues back playfully. Zayn has already made it clear that he isn’t going to throw a punch, not one that even comes close to damaging him in anyway at least. He also isn’t going to allow anyone else into the ring with him and nearly had a fit when Jarvis wanted to practice with him. Liam doesn’t really mind, he isn’t doing this to fight, but to spend more time with his best mate. _Boyfriend_ , he corrects quietly to himself, grinning to himself foolishly like he does every time he reminds himself.

(Also to work up on his strength, his confidence and whatever other crap he told Zayn to convince him to teach him while he was supposed to be paying attention to the last Harry Potter but he couldn’t because it was sad and Zayn is distracting.)

And he thinks Zayn’s protectiveness is kind of cute, really, but if Liam gets better at boxing, maybe Zayn will stop fighting every time someone messes with him and trust that he can take care of himself if he needs to.

“Yeah.” Zayn isn’t shy about admitting this. He taps his glove against Liam’s jaw, nudging his head back some. “Got you.”

Liam swings back and they dance around each other, grinning foolishly and they probably look ridiculous but he doesn’t care. The other people in the gym are used to it by now.

“Might ruin your reputation if you do that. Have to fight back sometime, Malik –“

Zayn pushes him roughly in the center of the chest, a challenge in his eyes as Liam stumbles back. It doesn’t hurt, but it is enough for him to lose his balance and Zayn taps him gently again under his rib cage, just a rub of the glove against his bare skin.  

“Focus, Liam,” Zayn scolds. “You leave yourself open too much.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how to incorporate this new move I discovered,” Liam tells him, biting the inside of his cheek when that the quirk in the corners of his lips threatens to betray him.

Zayn quirks a brow, a grin ghosting over his own lips. “Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“This.”

Zayn’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as Liam swings towards the side of his head, movement slowed to a near stop before it makes contact. His other glove comes up to the other side of his head and he pulls Zayn close, pressing his grin against Zayn’s lips.

“You make it hard to focus,” he mutters. He backs them up, Zayn’s gloves resting on his hips, until Zayn’s back presses into the bars on the side of the ring. “I think I need a new teacher.”

“No way,” Zayn whispers, tilting his head for Liam to deepen the kiss, his tongue lazily dragging over his lips, curling around Zayn’s tongue and savoring the taste of that spearmint gum Zayn always chews when he gets into the ring because he thinks it makes him look tough.

It kind of does, because the muscle around his jaw always flexes and tenses when he moves around the ring, even when it is Liam there with him but Liam can’t help but notice the softness in his eyes, the teasing grin on his lips, how he still looks so young and innocent like he did when they first met. The shaved head adds to his tough look, but makes him look soft and young at the same time and Liam doesn’t get it.

Zayn insisted on shaving his head again and Liam isn’t sure if it is because he told Zayn how much he loved it or not, because Zayn really likes to tease him about how overwhelmed he gets when he goes on about how beautiful Zayn is.

“Focus, Liam,” Zayn chuckles lowly, his tongue stretching out and teasing against Liam’s bottom lip.

There is the distant sound of Jarvis yelling at them, a frustration in his voice that Liam knows is only for show when he says ‘ _not in my gym –‘_

“Come on,” Liam mutters, pulling away some. He taps a rhythm against Zayn’s cheeks with his gloves playfully. “Let me show you that I can kick your ass now.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, glove reaching out to tap against his ass as he pads over to his former position. Liam falls into the stance Zayn showed him, beckoning Zayn forward with a challenge in his eyes.

_“If you’re in love with me,” Zayn had whispered, that rare cocky grin appearing as he licks at his lips. He had run a thumb across Liam’s lips, nail catching on the bottom. “Does that mean you can be something like mine, now?”_

_Liam had shaken his head, because Zayn didn’t get it. “Always been yours.”_

_“Yeah, well . I mean like, boyfriend –“_

_He had tried to maintain the cocky look, but he had been wide eyed and hesitant when Liam took too long to respond. “Only if that means you can be something like mine, too.”_

Zayn grins, pushing away from the side of the ring. “Yeah, alright bad man.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to stop after Liam shaving his head really, and then I dunno, it somehow became a fic dedicated to I Wont Mind because that song is Ziam af
> 
> Tell me what you think? [tumblr](http://zipplekink.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/zippIekink) if you need it!


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